Safe Haven
by Military Mechanic
Summary: It was the only thing that Luffy could think about. Saving Ace, that was. The only thought that went through his mind, even as his body was beaten and battered, as marines and pirates alike fell around him. Even when his own life was threatened, the fact that his older brother was there, on the executionar's stand, was all that he could think about. And he /would/ save him.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yes, I know. I shouldn't have started this. But I couldn't resist - not after re-reading this part of the manga yesterday. I've got an author's note below that I would like read, if ya'll wouldn't mind. :D

* * *

_I will save him._

That was the only thought that went through Luffy's mind. Over and over again, like a mantra. Whenever he felt cold steel bite into his flesh, whenever he was knocked down, knocked back, thrown half-way across the ring. That was what he though.

_I will save him._

Only, it wasn't just a thought. It was a promise - both to himself, and to every other man that was here, fighting and dyeing to save Ace. Something that, if he broke, Luffy knew would kill him. Because that was his brother up there, on the execution stand. That was the man that had sworn to always be by his side. Who had stayed awake on nights where Luffy couldn't sleep, when the nightmares were too strong. Who was closer than any member of his flesh and blood family, closer even then some of his crew.

No.

Closer than any of his crew.

So he took a deep breath and he flung himself foreward, feet slapping against the ground. Pain rippling through his body and into his heart, his lungs, his mind. Vaguely, he was aware that there were others around him. Then someone, military, was in front of him and a beam of light was slamming into his torso.

Luffy was aware of a blinding pain as he was shot backwards, fire engulfing his body. He slammed into something hard, and then he was on the ground. Cold and shaking, breath coming in unsteady pants and vision blurred - and it wasn't just the pain from this fight he was feeling anymore, but the pain from lethal poison his body had been soaked in earlier that day, burning and tearing and ripping at his very being.

The rigor hormones had worn off, just like Iva had said they would.

For a moment, Luffy's mind went blank. Was this it? Was this where he would die, before even getting the key up to his brother?

No.

It wasn't.

_I will save him._

"I-Iva!" the first call came out weak, Luffy's all but swallowed by the choas around him.

"I-IVA-CHAN!" the second call is louder. Loud enough to catch, not just the attention of the leader he's calling for, but also to gather the attention of several members of Whitebeard's crew. For Marco to look away from his own nearby battle and glance over, breath catching in his throat for but a moment at the sight of Ace's little brother laying there, as though he was on the brink of death.

Then the large, black and white visage of Iva was inbetween the Whitebeard commander and Luffy, vision obscured.

All that Luffy could see was Iva's face. His breath came in sharp, heavy gasps. Each one hurt, like a knife was shoved into his chest every time he took a gasp of air.

"F-fix me..." stammered Luffy, words only reaching the larger woman's ears. "Mo-more hormones."

"Another shot of the rigor hormones? Outrageous!" exclaimed Iva, head jerking back just slightly. "You can't take anymore! After fighting your vay through Impel Down...and almost dying from a lethal poison, your body is already far beyond its limits! If you push yourself any further, you truly vill...be throwing your life away!"

Her voice is loud. Others here - and some of them wonder, because that scrawny boy beneath her doesn't look like _anything_ can make him get up again. Yet there he was, forcing his arm out and across, stretching the limb up to grasp onto Iva's shoulder. The grasp was weak, and she could feel blood soak into her shirt.

"I'll do whatever I can..." Luffy panted, trembling voice raising with each word. "If I die then fine...! Just let me fight!...IVA-CHAN!"

The larger pirate froze - and, free from marines at the moment, so did Marco. He couldn't see the broken looking boy, but he could picture it in his mind. And, suddenly, he understood that the stories Ace had told him, about a brave young boy with a vibrant spark: they were all true.

"If by not fighting now..." said Luffy, voice trembling slightly, then rising, into a scream heard throughout the fight. By everyone still alive and all those on their way to the after life. "I failed to save Ace...that WOULD MAKE ME WANT TO DIE! PLEASE! GIVE ME THE POWER TO FIGHT NOW!"

For a moment, Iva hesitated. Then she forced energy into her right palm and slammed it into the younger boy's side, nails piercing flesh and drawing blood and a horrifying howl. She held strong though, concentrating on rearranging the hormones in Luffy's body. On temporarily making him forget about his pain and exhaustion and wounds.

When it wore off, she knew, he would be so consumed in gut-wrenching agony that it was very likely he could die.

At the moment though, Luffy was up again and running, towards Ace and the marines - and, fucking Hell, those were swords raised above his older brother's head, ready to be brought down in a life-ending arc. So he did what came naturally to him. The only thing that he could think of.

He screamed, loud and long, feet never stilling.

Miraculously, both marines fell to the ground. Ace was saved for a moment, staring at his younger brother with wide eyes. It was all a blur to Luffy after that.

Confusion; when Iva questioned a power that he didn't have.

Betrayal; when his grandfather got in front of him, fist raised and tounge barbed.

Desperation; when the key to Ace's seastone chains was cut through and shattered.

Elation; when a new key was made, by Mr. Three, and Ace was free free _free_!

_I saved him_.

That was the first thing to shoot through Luffy's mind.

_I saved him._

Luffy latched onto his brother, and they were flying through the marines. It was just how it should be, them fighting side by side. Moving, not as two brothers, but almost as one entity. Strengths matched and energy on par with each other. Minds connected and reading each other perfectly.

Which was why, when Ace paused to give a final goodbye to Whitebeard, the man that he had been as close to as Luffy was to Shanks, Luffy waited patiently. That was also why, despite how much he knew they had to leave, he knew that Ace wouldn't run from a man putting his Father's name down.

Ace never had, even when they were little and it was Roger they were talking about.

Ace lunged at Akainu and Luffy moved, just a jerking motion because he didn't know whether to fight with his brother or grab the older man and run. Ace's vivre card slipped from its place in Luffy's hat, fluttering down to the ground and threatening to be trampled. Without thinking, the young captain reached down to grab it - and suddenly everything turned to slow motion.

Someone screamed. His name, maybe?

He looked up, at the marine now charging towards him, and froze.

Ace started to moving, lunging at his younger brother.

_Oh_, thought Luffy, _he's coming to save me_.

Then he stiffened, because that wasn't right. That was so wrong and Ace was in front of him and Akainu was there - and Luffy used everything he had left in him to grab his brother by the shoulders and _fling_ him to the side.

"YOU'RE NOT TAKING HIM FROM ME!" he screamed, and then the scream was nothing more than that. A gutteral noise of pain and agony, as the larger mans hand was thrust into his chest and out the other side.

It was like he had been thrown into a tunnel. His vision narrowed into a small field, mostly compraised of pitch black. There was pain and fire, then there was ice taking over everything. He was thrown backward, but he didn't feel it.

Didn't feel anything.

_I will save Ace._

That was all that went through his mind. That was all that he could think about, even as he bled out in the middle of Marineford.

Luffy wasn't aware of the entire battle freezing, nor could he hear the sudden cry taken up by the pirates in the battle.

His grandfather; mouth open and eyes wide in horror, as he watched his favorite and blood-related grandson fall to the ground, body limp.

Hancock; entire body frozen as she watched on with wide-eyes, the only man that she had ever respected, go limp.

_All of the Grand Line; watching through the visiaul den-den mushi, as the marines became a force to be feared, killing even when they had lost, stripping the life of a boy who only wanted to save his family_.

Family, everyone now realized, that wasn't even formed by blood.

But it was Ace that moved first, ignoring Akainu to fly across the battlefield and grab onto the shoulders of his younger brother. To scream his name, tears running down his face, and pull him close. Warm blood coated his bare chest, and a weak hand came up to rest on the top of his bicep.

"A-ace..." whimpered Luffy, blood bursting forth from his mouth, running down his chin and joining the growing pool beneath him. "You...'kay?"

It was a question, not for his own health, but for that of his brother. And every screen in the world was honed in on it, every civilian privy to this conversation between D's.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, Luffy!" sobbed Ace, and he pulled his the younger man into a tigher hug, one hand pressing against the gaping wound of his back and the other moving to grip the weak hand on his arm. "And - and you'll be fine too! You'll be fine!"

Luffy didn't say anything for a long moment. Barely even breathed. Then the corners of his lips twitched up, into a grin that showed off his crimson stained teeth and his blood filled mouth, and gave a weak laugh. Ace sobbed harder. Around them, everyone was still.

"Heh...go-onna die..." managed Luffy, but he still grinned. Still focused his waning vision on the heart-broken man in front of him. "Bu-but you're...you're sa-safe!"

"No, Luffy, no! Don't you dare do this to me!" begged Ace - and it's the first time that anyone had heard him speak that way. For his crew-mates, it was heart-breaking. For the marines, it was satisfaction. For Garp, it was like his entire world was being jerked from beneath him.

But that was it. There were no other struggled words from his brother. No weak gasps for air. Just an unearthly stillness - and Ace threw back his head and _howled_.

* * *

A/N2: I really hate putting A/N's down here, but I just have to this time. I'm going to make this into a _short_ story, but I can't figure out what path to take. Shall Luffy actually be killed? Or should I pull some mystery trick on you guys? Let me know in a review, 'kay?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow! I cannot believe how many people responded to this - and answered my question! I still haven't made my mind up completely, but I finished this chapter and though I would post it for you all anyways. :D

* * *

Usopp wasn't watching the battle. Couldn't watch it, not out on that little island, with nothing more than his wits and a beatle-headed man that went by the name of Heracles. In fact, he didn't even know the fight was going on.

Didn't know that Ace had been captured by the marines, nor that his captain was out there fighting them.

What he did know was that this island? It was dangerous and strange and nothing like he had ever seen before. Even the plants, colorful and bright, begging to be picked and pruned, were dangerous. More than that, they were cannibalistic.

He'd been bitten by them twice already. Once on the ankle; by something resembling an overgrown patch of clover but with rows and rows and rows of little fangs, sharp and painful. Once on the left shoulder; by something that hung in a tree, out of sight and hidden from even the sniper's sharp eyes.

Usopp struggled on though, trying to get Heracles to help him find a way off the island. Find a way back to the Archipalagio to meet up with the others. And he would, mind you, even if he was half-dead by the time he got there. Even he had to give up everything that he had with him, all the way down to his very soul.

The last time they split up, he hadn't even been a part of the crew.

This time, he would prove to them that now only was he loyal, but that he didn't always need to be protected.

So, for the first two days on that odd island, he sat back and listened to the aged man that had found him. Heracles wanted to teach Usopp how to live off the land, but they ended up skipping those lessons. The young sniper had enough practice in that field from when he lived on Syrup Island, from after his mother died and he was left alone. Just an eight year old child trying to survive on his own.

Instead, they went straight into endurance work - and it was actually fairly easy, much to Usopp's surprise, because he was used to being hit and getting back up.

What he wasn't used to was waking up one day, on the dawn of the third day, and feeling _sick_. Like something had grabbed onto his heart and started to squeeze, tighter and tighter, never letting go.

"Are you alright, Usopp'n?" asked Heracles over breakfast, which consisted of a freshly picked salad and some roasted bird.

Usopp paused, looking down at the untouched meal in his lap, then shook his head. His dark hair, out of its tie at the moment, bounced around his shoulders and framed his face, which seemed almost haunted. Eyes listless and mouth drawn tight, the look of someone that had been ill for a very long time.

"No...Something's not right, Heracles." he said, voice soft. His eyes flicked up, waiting for the older man to laugh at him or pry, but was only met with the level gaze he was rapidly becoming used to. "W-with Luffy, I think. I don't know what...But I can _feel_ it. Something really bad's happened."

Silence for a moment after that, then Heracles offered him a grim nod. "I know, Usopp'n. A postal bird got lost'n during the night'n. You should be read'n the paper this mornin'n."

So Usopp did - and right there on the front page, in black and white and, thank the Lord there wasn't color because all of the red would just push him over the edge, was Luffy. The photo had been taken during battle, and the smoke and dust frozen around him was proof of that. A gaping wound in his captain's chest drew his eyes away from everything else, and Usopp felt his own breath catch in his throat. Hands trembled, and the paper moved with them, rippling and shaking until something ripped - and a large, cold hand lay itself on Usopp's shoulder.

"Usopp'n...You have to breath." muttered Heracles, normally boistrous voice almost flat sounding.

The sniper didn't notice that, though. Didn't notice anything except for the caption beneath the heart-breaking photo.

-x-x-x-x-

Perona had been surprised that first day, when she found the wounded pirate on her doorstep. The swordsman, she knew, was supposed to be one of the strongest of the Straw Hat pirates, second only to the captain himself. Yet there he was, battered and bloodied and barely breathing.

His tanned skin had been ripped and smeared with dirt, pulled away from even the bone in spots. Soaked through bandages covered his arms and torso, but they were old and just as stained as the mans skin was. Three swords hung at his waist, like he hadn't even been given a chance to draw his weapons before the battle begun.

So, in a way, saying that she had been a surprise was an understatement. She was baffled.

And it was because she was so confused and curious that she summouned her ghosts to her and had him hauled up into one of the cavernous rooms of her castle. That had been the only reason - and that was a thought that she had to repeat to herself the entire way after her floating minions, shoulders thrown back and bright blue eyes slightly shaded.

They carried Zolo into the previously empty room and then dissapeared into thin air, leaving behind nothing but a cold breeze. Aside from a soft groan, he gave no other indication of waking. His wounds continued to seep however, the crimson liqued running along the creases of his pectorals and down onto the dust-coated sheet of the bed.

She frowned and floated off the ground slightly, legs crossing beneath her as she looked the first mate over. Whatever had happened to him, it had been bad. And she was a princess of shadows, not a doctor. Still, against her better judgement, she did her best to fix him up.

Old, moth-eaten curtains became bandages and a thick cloth found in one of the abandoned dressers became a cold compress, which she rested against his forehead. When the fever hit him, she threw a blanket over his trembling form and frowned - because she honestly just didn't have a clue what to do.

The first day passed by, and nothing changed.

The second day came and went, and with it his fever.

On the dawn of the third day, when Perona ambled into the room designated for the guest, already dressed and primped for the day, she was met with an empty bed. Her blood froze, and her sharp eyes took notice of the scarlet that stained the floor. Of the way the chair was on its side, like someone had fallen into it. Of the silence of the castle and courtyard alike, devoid of the almost constant call of the crows.

Slow steps brought her to the open window, and she narrowed her eyes to see past the strong rays of the dawn sun. It hit the mist that lay over the island and sent ripples through it, making it hard to see the castle grounds.

But the pink-haired girl had no problems locating the swordsman, who was on all fours just outside of the main door.

One hand was tucked beneath Zolo's forehead, the other fisted into the ground, fingers digging deep into the hard earth. Dew was soaking into his pants legs and blood into his make-shift bandages, but niether of those were the cause of his discomfort. That lay solely in the pit of his stomach and the back of his mind, where it felt as though his very innards had soured on him.

There was something wrong with his captain, Zolo could tell, and it wasn't something that could easily be fixed.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The future kingdom, Barjimoa. It was a stunning place, even in the eyes of someone who didn't understand all the work gone into it. For someone that _did_, for Franky, it was as close to a dream come true as he could get.

These people here, they understood his mechanics. In fact, quite a few of them were cyborgs themselves. For the first time in a very long time, he felt like he wasn't completely alone. On top of that, they were a fairly friendly bunch and made it clear to him that he was welcome in their city.

Which was good, because he didn't have anywhere else to go at the moment.

Stranded after fighting with Kuma, and at a complete loss as to how he could get back to the Archipilagio, Franky took to wondering the streets. Exploring every nook and crevice that he came across. Learning all that he could, in hope that it would of use when he returned to his crew.

On the first day, he was shown Dr. Vegapunk's home. Learnt the mans story and felt sympathy. A kinship, almost, because he remembered his own days of trying to make Water Seven a better place. For his family of course, but still a similiar goal.

The second day brought with it a temporary home. An old man named Taruka took him in. Gave him a soft bed to sleep in and a plethora of meals and information. Just one condition, too - that Franky follow the rules of their town and obey when spoken too.

With the third morning came an early wake up call. Taruka, oblivious to the fact that Franky was a pirate, a member of the Straw Hat crew none-the-less, ushered him out of bed and out of the house, without any breakfast even. They both went through the town, and the cyborg took in the fact that others were leaving their homes in similiar states of undress, clad only in their nightwear and with sleep-filled eyes.

They gathered in the square together, eyes falling on the large plethora of screens at its center. Each one showed the same thing - Marineford and its execution grounds. And, for the next three hours, Franky was held captive by the images the visual den-den mushi collected and broadcast.

Every wound his captain recieved, he felt.

Every scream ripped from the younger mans throat sent a pang through Franky's chest.

Every tear and begged word and determined bellow made Franky's heart speed up, mouth gone dry and hair wilted long ago.

And, when Akainu's hand met and then forced its way through Luffy's chest, Franky's cry drowned out the group around him.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Life on Tequila Wolf island was harsh, even though Robin had only endured it for two days. The sea-stone cuffs around her wrist had already rubbed the skin raw, and the bottoms of her feet bore open sores from walking barefoot on the rubble of their project. The uniform that she had been forced into was already tattered and stained from a hard days work, hauling wooden beams and cartloads of metal pieces to and from the bridge.

But she kept her mouth shut and her eyes open, waiting for any form of an opportunity. That was what she was good at, after all. Escaping, running, hiding.

It was what had kept her alive for so many years, long before she met Luffy and the others.

Her chance came early on the third morning. Robin broke away from the group of workers being led to the meal hall, instead slinking down one of the more elegant looking passagways. She crept through the shadows, eyes alert and flicking from door to door, ever alert for a noise that might help guide her - and then she heard it. A loud, boistrous laugh. It came from several doors down the hall, and it was on silent feet that the archeologist made her way to said closed door.

She pressed an ear to the wood, closing her eyes and focusing. Taking in every word of the marines conversation.

"I know!" one of them laughed, and she recognized the voice as a man baring the name Kabo. "Who would'a guessed it?"

"Not me." answered the other, and that voice Robing couldn't place a name too. "I was kind of thinkin' that we were gonna lose the prisoner."

"Well, we did lose the prisoner." Kabo grumbled, but there was an almost satisfied tone to his voice none the less. "But that head we got was even better! Who would'a thought that we'd lose Firefist and get Straw Hat instead?!"

Loud laughter echoed the hall, covering the small gasp that wrenched from Robin's throat. She could still hear them speaking, joking about the blood and the way Luffy had screamed and never once using his name, right up until the point that Robin's legs gave way and she went tumbling towards the ground, tears leaking from the corner of her usually stoic eyes.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The birds were who told him. The morning that it happened, actually. Moments after it happened. Before the newspaper had even left the printing shops.

Chopper was the first to know. He wished that he was the last.

Chuthulu's cousin, a small crow by the name of Renka, had been at Marineford when it happened. As far as the birds were concerned, it was nothing more than a loss of nests. To Chopper? It was the loss of an entire world.

-x-xx-x-x-

It wasn't right. That image printed on the sheet of paper in front of him. It wasn't right, no, it was far from being right. It was an atrocity, outrageous, and a lie. The words beneath it, they were even worse. Nothing but hollowed out, spat out, pieces of garbage.

Yet they still made Brook's arm shake, despite its lack of veins and muscles. His voice, when he spoke, reading the article out loud to himself and only himself, was trembling.

"Exactly four days ago, a great battle took place at Marineford. Renowned pirate Portgas D. Ace, otherwise known as "Firefist of the Whitebeard pirates", was scheduled for execution. Shortly before said execution could take place, the marine base was attacked." he read, empty sockets scanning the paper in his bony clutches.

Brook skipped most of the article, having already read it twice before, and let his mouth form the words at its bottom. "The body of Monkey D. Luffy was obtained from the field of the battle shortly after the remaining pirates fled, among them Portgas D. Ace, former Shichibukai Crocodile, captain of the Whitebeard pirates, Edward Newgate, and a large portion of said captain's crew."

But those words meant nothing to Brook. Not like the first sentence did. Not like that picture did. And he so badly wanted to just brush it off as a lie - but he _knew_ that it wasn't.

Knew that is was the truth. And it wasn't right.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to the next chapter! Thank you guys so much for the amazing reviews last time around, they really made my day. :D

I hope that you all enjoy this chapter just as much. And remember! I listen to what my reviewers say, so don't be afraid to tell me what you're thinking!

* * *

_He'll have to open up sometime_.

That's what they said, the pirates that had taken shelter on the High-Wave. That's what they firmly believed too, because it was Firefist Ace they were talking about. The third division commander for Whitebeard's crew, and someone that even the marines had feard. Someone that even the world nobels had been afraid of.

_He'll have to open the door soon_.

It's what everyone was whispering, as the fleet of ships, worn and streaked with blood of the dead and the dying and the dead-inside, picked a path away from the ruins of Marineford. It's what more of them believed, at the start. As time passed, however, they figured out something that Marco had known from the very beginning.

Ace didn't plan on leaving the room that he'd taken as _his_ any time soon. Maybe even ever - and that thought is why the first division commander had taken up residense right outside of the locked door. To listen, because he'd be damned if he was going to lose Ace too. Not after all that they had been through trying to get at him.

Days passed by, and the scattered crews that shared the ship with him began to lose all hope. They had no one to lead them because most of the captains had been killed in the battle. The ones that hadn't just couldn't bring themselves to take control over _everyone_.

Especially not the Whitebeard pirates, who were there but not. Everyone could see them, but they never spoke. Not out-loud at least. Just looked at each other with serious faces and drawn mouths, silently communicating whatever needed to be said but never really accomplishing anything.

Not because they didn't know who should lead them. No, no, far from that. Every last one of them knew who should take over for Newgate.

Marco the Pheonix; second in command of the entire fleet.

And that's why they all just looked at each other, subtle glances and unspoken words, because Marco had taken up a different job instead. One that no one else could handle, and one that had to be taken.

So they just let him sit there, outside of the locked door that hid Ace from the world, and sometimes they would bring him a plate of food or a cup of coffee. Mostly though, they left him be. Didn't like to look at him, with his skin pale and his face pinched, eyes narrowed as he fought to stay alert, ever alert, because he couldn't live with himself if he allowed Ace to just off himself in the dark. Couldn't live with himself if he forced the younger man out before he was ready, either.

So he sat there, and the ship sailed on. Days passed, and then a week. Maybe a little longer. All that Marco knew was that, for the first time in he didn't know how long, he heard movement from inside the room.

A small creak of a matress; and Marco was snapping his head up.

The sound of light, uneven foot-steps; and suddenly Marco's breath was catching in his throat, and he was _willing_ the other pirates to look away and quit staring.

A hand on the knob, and a slight click as the door unlocked; and when it opened, Marco forced himself to offer the broken man a soft smile, forced himself not to just start crying right then and there.

Ace looked down at him, but didn't acknowledge the gesture. Just stared at him for a long moment, eyes empty of everything and anything and, God, they looked like the eyes of a dead man. Stared out at the blond from a dirty face, too pale skin still smeared with dirt and blood. Just like the rest of him - which looked exactly as it did when they drug Ace, kicking and screaming and howling for his brother, onto the ship almost a week and a half ago.

"Ace. You're up." said Marco, and he was amazed at how level his voice was.

The dark haired man didn't say anything. Just gave a slow, drawn out blink like he was still trying to wake up. His dark brown eyes moved from Marco, to the rest of the deck. And they tried to act like they weren't staring, but it was so obvious that they were.

Marco payed no mind to the noise his joints made when he uncurled his legs, pushing himself up onto both feet. They were stiff and a little sore and his feet felt like they were asleep, but he just cocked his head at Ace and gave him a steady stare.

And they just stood there like that, tired eyes matched with dead ones, unfeeling ones, lost ones, and niether of them spoke. They didn't have too. They could speak without words.

Looking at him, Marco knew that it was worse than he had thought. That, even though Ace had come out of the room, he wasn't actually _there_. No, he was still back in Marineford, with his baby brother and his only family and the one man that he would die for again, and again, and again.

"Any food here?" Ace croaked out after a moment, and his voice was hoarse and scratchy. It hurt to speak, with a throat that had split from screaming and lips that were rubbed raw from burying them in a pillow, trying to hide his sobs.

Marco nodded, and didn't comment on the obvious. "Yeah. Should be something left in the kitchen."

Ace looked around, but there isn't any recognition on his face. He didn't recognize the ship. Had never been on it before. Or maybe, something in the back of his mind told him, maybe he just didn't want to be awake enough to remember it?

Whatever the case, he wasn't really aware of following Marco. Just that, one moment, he was standing on the deck and people were staring but not looking, and the next he was in a small, cramped kitchen empty of everyone except for himself and the blond. Marco was over at a cabinet, moving things around and looking for something, so Ace let himself shuffle over to the table and sit down.

If he were closer to reality, he would have noticed how the skin pulled tight on his back where, at some point during the fight, he had been cut. But he didn't, just like he didn't notice the scabbed over wound itching or the burn in his throat.

Empty eyes followed Marco through the kitchen, but Ace didn't actually make sense of the motions until a plate of cold chicken was sat down in front of him. Didn't realize how past starving he was until he took that first bite, and then he was just shoveling it in, trying to fill himself up before his stomach ate itself.

Marco wasn't paying attention. He was getting himself a plate out - and then there was a crash and he spun around just in time to see Ace slide out of the chair and hit his knees, palms landing in the shattered glass from his plate, and chest heaving.

"Ace?!" started Marco. And, yes, he was more than a little concerned but didn't he have the right to be?

Ace didn't answer him. Couldn't, because suddenly everything he'd just eaten was forcing itself back up, a wave of stomach acid and bile following it. The soured liqued burnt his already aching throat, and his vision blurred.

Enough so he missed the tinge of red that came out when he retched.

Marco didn't miss it though and when he crouched down beside the younger man, a hand resting on his bare back and noticing just how _clammy_ his skin was, he also took in the tears now spilling down Ace's face. The way his entire body was shaking, even after the retching stopped and he just crouched there, spittle dripping from his lower lip and blank eyes staring at the mess on the floor.

Letting out a sigh, the blond moved to stand. When he did, he looped an arm under Ace's shoulder and brought the shaking man up with him.

Ace just stared at the ground, and he seemed so beyond lifeless now. Like nothing in the world could ever fix him. Like there was no way to make his life right again.

And maybe there wasn't. Marco didn't know. What he did know was that he couldn't just leave Ace be to figure it out on his own. So he kept a hand on the younger mans shoulder, both to guide and to keep steady, and started back towards the main deck.

"C'mon Ace." Marco said softly. "Let's go get your hands taken care of."

Ace didn't answer.


End file.
